Take a Stand, Kiku
by Igboprincess
Summary: Ivan Braginski and Yao Wang get into an argument that spirals out of control. Yao turns to Japan for alliegance and alliance and rips him from his new friend Heracles. Can Heracles save his best friend, and possibly the world?
1. Size Matters

****A few OC's: Jack Kirkland (Australia), Some African countries,(Chinwe as Kenya and Ada as Nigeria), Cambodia (Sathaya) and Knock-out-oxide (Original Chemical :P). Also, Mongolia, in my story at least, will be called Li Ming.****

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><p>After another semi-successful world conference (Arthur and Francis still quarreled over a petty nothing, an Alfred had his fair share of idiotic comments), the nations went to lunch at one of Yao's improvised Chinatowns. When the initial hock of discovering one in the basement of the meeting hall had faded, the countries sat down to lunch. A petite, Han-Chinese waitress appeared at their table and Veneciano's eyes lit up at the sight of a pretty girl.<p>

"Ve~," he sniggered. "You're cute! Why don't you take your lunch break now and sit with me…."

Vash smacked him upside the head with the barrel of his ever-present gun as he apologized to the girl, whose violent blush deeply contrasted her blue-black hair.

"Ow! That hurt!" Veneciano exclaimed.

"Sorry for his… _him _-ness," the Swiss lamented. "He just hasn't gotten that much lately since he's so naïve…"

"Not true, Swissie!" objected the Italian.

Alfred laughed as the girl scurried off. "Yo dude, I can probs tell you why you're not gettin' much. The rest of us have bigger…er…_peninsulas_ than you do, that's all!" The more timid countries blushed while those who weren't as prude heavily agreed.

"Yea man, what shoe size are you anyway?" Gilbert asked Veneciano as he thoroughly tussled his reddish-brown hair. "Like a four*, or something?"

"What, a four? Ha, Dude _I'm_ like a ten!" Alfred boasted.

"Forget you man," Gilbert laughed. "My awesome foot measures a thirteen. Suck on that awesomeness!"

"_Bruder_, that is a lie. You know that you're an eleven. _I_ wear a fifteen." Ludwig rectified to his brother. Gilbert sunk slightly in his chair.

"Whatever. Lovino, what size are you?"

"Fourteen," the dark-haired Italian deadpanned.

"I'm an eleven!" Peter piped from his high-chair at the far end of the table.

"Yea, in children's sizes," Arthur scoffed. At that, the municipality (no on regarded him as a country, since Sealand was more of a helicopter landing for England) started to cry, complaining that he was being bullied and he wanted to be a nation.

"Oh, shut up, you little twit. Don't get you're diaper two kilometers up your arse!" the Briton retorted. This just made Peter cry harder, but when Ivan introduced his lead pipe, the kid zipped his lips and tried his hardest to hold back tears.

Yao Wang claimed his shoe size was a nineteen, but since he was an Asian country, no one believed him._ Damn those stupid stereotypes,_ the Chinese man brooded.

Ivan decided to end this once and for all, so he admitted his shoe size was a twenty-one.

"And it's not just me," he added. "All my men are 'endowed'. Our women can't be compared to Ukraine, but my men are nothing to mess with." The nations who didn't partake in the conversation felt totally one-upped, but the more promiscuous nations (namely Alfred and Gilbert) practically bowed too Ivan.

"Dude, twenty-one? You're like a god, or something!" Alfred praised the lead-wielding Russian as if he were Christ himself. "Haha, _GET _SOME, man!"

Prussia fist-bumped Ivan as he said "Whoa, that's _awesome_! And coming from me, reigning overlord of awesome, that's saying something."

Yao, on the other hand, was steaming that he had no respect from the other nations.

"Ai ya! Forget this!" He jumped up from his chair, yelling, "I'm a size nineteen and you guys all know it!"

The table fell silent as the angry Chinaman slumped in his chair, arms folded and tucked into his oversized sleeves.

"Ayeee, chill out, mate. Its no big deal," Jack Kirkland said as he tried to console the angry Yao Wang. "Its all about personal preference, y'know. I mean, I don't have the biggest beef at the barbie**, but—"

"It's not just that, you dumbass!" Yao interjected, again slamming the table. "Ivan is always acting like hes some big macho-man, when he started off just a dirty Oliver Twist. He thinks he's some kinda big deal!"

"Well it doesn't matter anyways because eventually we will al become one under Mother Russia." Ivan said quietly with a smile that could make anyone uneasy.

"Shut up with your damned 'we'll all become one' shit. _I'm_ the one who'll do the imperialism around here!"

"Can I have some pasta?" Veneciano asked. Everyone's heads whipped towards him. The countries wondered:

a) when the new waiter (a man this time, but some of the dining nations still would not be deterred by that) showed up at the table

b) how long he'd been there and how much he heard

c) and how Veneciano could still be thinking about pasta when a battle amongst nations occurred.

But they _were_ hungry, so the rest of the table placed their orders.

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><p>A few chairs away from where Yao's little scene happened, Kiku Honda and Heracles Karpusi were discussing the idealism of Greek Mythology.<p>

"So you are telling me that your deities – your gods – are very human-like?" Kiku pondered.

"Yes, we Greeks like our heroes and gods to have weaknesses, just like we do." Explained Heracles

"That is very unusual to me. Typically, I would imagine that an immortal being would not have a drawback, and would therefore be inhuman." The Japanese man was still trying to make sense of Grecian theology.

"Not that they aren't inhuman – gods are nothing like humans except that they have similar pitfalls as we do; lust, greed, lack of wisdom (but only for some of the gods) and things like that."

The two continued to talk about Greek culture when their food arrived.

Kiku was a shy, timid and reserved nation, and therefore for a long time was closed of to other countries. After this period of isolation, Japan resolved to explore the world and its cultures. He started with America, but Alfred was too overbearing, and Arthur, well, Kiku just didn't want to start with them. So he found a country that was quiet and reserved like him, but still interesting and rich in culture. And Greece fit the description perfectly. His shoulder-length brown hair was a perfect perch for Heracles' snow-white cat Tama, who would sometimes get lost in it. He almost always wore a loose, green t-shirt and spent a lot of time at ruins or in green, lush hillsides. He also wore yellow cat ears that were given to him by Kiku. He got him this present because it was very visible that Heracles LOVED cats.

They had such good conversations together, like they were having at this lunch.

By the time desert came, conversation had strayed from Greek mythology to Japanese martial arts.

"And _that's_ how _kendo_ and _judo_ are different." Kiku concluded, finishing his egg roll and lo-mein. Heracles laughed when a noodle slapped Kiku's forehead as he slurped it up.

And the Japanese man giggled a little bit too.

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><p><strong>AN:** *_When the nations are referring to shoe sizes, they are using the American way of measuring*_

_**barbie: Australian colloquialism for barbeque.**_


	2. A Formidable Opponent

**Sorry for taking so long to upload! I've actually written up to chapter five, but school and homework and other distractions (like chatting with friends and boys and stuff :P) have been getting in the way.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter and leave a comment telling me how I can do better. Happy Reading!**

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><p>During dessert, Alfred broke the silence by asking about the next Beatles album to Arthur.<p>

"You dimwit," Arthur scoffed. "The Beatles are no more."

Alfred still though this was a perfectly valid question. "Yeah, but they made a new album for Michael Jackson and he's been dead for like, three years, man…!"

"Sure, mate, you can't kill a legend!" Jack sided with Alfred. Even Kaelin, the quiet New Zealand personification, silently agreed.

"Well, you dunces, you can't really call it music if you're taking shards of his past hits and pasting them together on a track like its some collage. Its just not authentic," the Briton chided.

"Well, none of your Western trash can compare to my bright stars. Even our modern artists are manifesting Chinese folk music and 'rocking it', as you Westerners say." Yao pulled out a picture of Bright Sheng, a Chinese composer who has brought Chinese music to American orchestras since the 90's. "Sheng-tóngzhi is definitely superior compared to your Michael Jackson or your 'Insects'".

"It's the Beatles, you dumb-arse!" wailed Arthur. The Brit looked absolutely dejected at the disrespect for his country's favorite band.

Arthur was dejected, but Alfred was literally bawling as he clawed at Yao. "You douchebag! How dare you insult the musical craft of a legend such as Michael! Fuck you, man!" Alfred was throwing wimpy punches into the indifferent Chinaman's shoulder. He paused when he said, "I wouldn't mind if you insulted Rebecca Black or that 'Red Solo Cup' guy, cuz they _sucked_. But MJ is beast, yo!"

Ivan piped in, saying that though both Sheng and Michael are decent, no one could compare to Aram Khachaturian." Ivan gestured to Raivis and the jittery nation popped up and began to play "Sabre Dance" on a violin that appeared out of nowhere.

The Russian hummed along for a little bit before he said, "His masterpiece _'Sabre Dance'_ has been used in almost every cartoon, or at leas a variation of it has."

At this, Kiku interrupted the discussion and informed them that Khachaturian was actually Armenian.

Ivan huffed. "Like I said earlier," he started, while sweetly sniffing at a sunflower. "None of that will be important when we're all one under Mütterchen Russland." (In this case, it was valid that he said that because Armenia is actually under Russia.)

"Cool your cock, dude. Quit acting like a _babushka_*," Alfred quipped. He slumped in his chair, arms crossed, looking exhausted. Yao had tired him out when he was flailing at him.

Now that lunch was over and everyone had finished their dessert, the nations went on their ways; Matthew, Alfred, and Alejandro went to their homes on N. America Blvd., while Fernando, a young Nicaraguan man, Horacio, who hailed from Panama, Juan, who was from Honduras, and the other Central American countries took a bus to Calle de sur Ameríca Centrál.

Chinwe, Ada and the rest of the African countries present walked through the dry Sahara to get home. Yao and his "groupies"; Hongkongese Kaoru, Mongolian Li Ming, Sathaya, a Cambodian representation, and the rest of the Asian countries went home to Land of the Dragon St.

The meeting hall was closet to Europe Dr., so the European nations didn't have to wait long until they were on their couches watching football.

"Yea, Manchester!" Arthur shouted from his spot on the love seat. "Kick Chelsea's arse!"

Veneciano shoved the Brit against the arm of the seat, showing a gruffer side that was rarely ever seen. "Oh, shut up, Eyebrows. _Andiamo, Chelsea! _Shove Chicharito into the ground!" he yelled at the TV.

All the nations present gathered in the living stared in awe at the raving Italian.

"Don't mess with an Italian and his football," Holland laughed.

"Ja, remember last year, during the Italian Serie A championship tournament?" Ludwig asked. The previous year, Antonio and the Vargas brothers had practically lost their minds (and voices) in the period of two to three hours, just from the soccer game.

After they'd all had a drink (everyone except Veneciano; Ludwig insisted that he have a juice box and some pasta), they played cards and watched TV. The conversation was light and felicitous, even after the game, especially for Arthur, because Manchester beat Chelsea 7-4.

"Suck on that, you twit!" he yelled to the Venetian as he cried into Ludwig's chest. "Pay up and kiss my arse!" Arthur hollered into Antonio's ear. He begrudgingly did so, mumbling _cabron_[1] and _pendejo_[2] under his breath.

Finally, he turned to Belgium and said to her, "Remember that bet we made at the beginning of the season?"

"You mean the one that said if Manchester ever beat Chelsea by more than 2 points you'd get under my uniform?" she giggled.

"I believe that's the one." Arthur winked at the Belgian and led her out of the living room.

Meanwhile, in Asia, Yao was picking lice from Kaoru's hair (again) when Li Ming reminded him that in a few days it would be the 316th anniversary of the Chinese acquisition of Mongolia.

"Ai ya, I almost forgot," Yao remarked, flicking a mite off his robe. "Has it really been that long since 1696?" he asked.

Kiku, who was always lurking and ready to answer any question, did the calculations and confirmed Li's math.

"Ha-ha!" the Honkongese laughed. "_géxià_ is getting old! You're a – what is it the Americans say, geeze? – GEEZER! _Ai ya!_" Yao had smacked Kaoru in the head with his StirFry Pan™ and promptly returned to disinfecting his hair.

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><p>Ivan and Nataliya were the only ones who didn't attend the European football house party that was going on over at Arthur's. They weren't so much into sports as they were into torture.<p>

And yandere.

Ivan paced back and forth, fingering his lead pipe, with his little sister in tow.

"So, sister," he started.

"Da, beloved brother?" she replied.

"How do you suppose we can achieve my dream – to create a single family under Russia?"

"Force and torture," the yandere woman answered. "But any idea you come up with will definitely be better."

Ivan was flattered, but his sister's aura made him wearier than his "kolkolkol" chant would make any other nation.

But that was beside the point. He needed to find a way to jump-start his "unification process".

He though of who he could conquer. He had the Baltic brother wrapped around his demonic finger. The other small countries would be too easy to overpower. He wanted a challenge.

"Hasn't that fool Yao been annoying lately? I know he's been getting on _my _nerves." Nataliya suggested.

"He _had_ been itching for a fight at lunch today, da?" Maybe Wang would be a formidable opponent.

He'd just have to wait and see.

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><p><strong>*Babushka - the Russian dolls that look like old women. I don't know why Alfred said that but you know how he is. <strong>

**[1] cabron - asshole**

**[2] pendejo - dumbass**


	3. Get Ready to Party!

At the next World Conference, the nations planned a mixer to endorse racial acceptance.

"It could be a costume party, bro!" Alfred elbowed his British colonizer as he made his suggestion.

Arthur looked agitated but agreed with the American. "I must say that I _do_ look good in any costume…" he smirked.

"I agree also-" Kiku started. Vash glared at him, giving him a look that said "_Honda! Have your own opinions! Mon dieux…!"_

"W-well, I-I…" Kiku stuttered. "If we were to have this costume party, what should the theme be?"

"We could dress up as people from each nations' history." Matthew whispered. His bear, Kumajiro, looked up at him from his lap and asked "Who are you?" in his high-pitched, almost _lolita_ voice.

"I'm Canada," Matthew replied with a weary smile.

"_Je sais!_ We could dress like leaders from our nations' history!" Francis exclaimed. He was sitting right next to Matthew and still gave him the Canada treatment. Poor Matthew…

"Well, I know what _I'm_ dressing up as!" Gilbert announced. "I'll be King Frederich the _Awesome_. He was the first king of the original Prussian _reich_."

"Er, Gilbert? I'm pretty sure it was King Frederich the _Great_, da?" Ivan corrected the conceited Prussian.

"Ja, bruder," Ludwig said. "Reich Frederich was the _Great _not the _Awesome_…"

"Oh, shut up, losers." Gilbert snapped as he shot both Ivan and Ludwig the bird.

"Calm down, _hombres_. Chalupa?" Alejandro Fernandez tried to bring peace to the meeting by offering a Mexican meat-filled, tortilla wrapped snack. And it worked. "I'm going as Javier "Chicharito" Hernandez."

"Who is that?" Francis asked his sombrero-wearing friend.

"He plays fútbol for Manchester United and he used to be on Mexico's national team."

"Well, that's all fine and dandy," Alfred interrupted. "But Imma be Justin Beiber!"

"I have two problems with that statement," Arthur said. "First; 'Imma be' is incorrect grammar and makes you sound more like and imbecile than you already do. Second; Beiber? _Really?_" The Britt shook his head as the female nations swooned when Justin's name was mentioned.

"I'm going to be Emperor Chi'en-lung tiānzi," Yao stated promptly. "When I walk in, everyone will _kow-tow_ at the emperor's greatness!" Chi'en-lung was famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) for forcing his court to kow-tow; getting on your hands and knees and knocking you head against the ground nine times. But Chi'en-lung was also emperor during the time when the British introduced opium to the Chinese.

When someone pointed this out, Yao was enraged. "It's not my fault!" He flung a finger towards Arthur. "Your stupid traders smuggles it into my beautiful country!"

"Forget the opium. I said I was sorry! Anyhow, I know who I'll ne, but I wont disclose that information till the party. Speaking of, when will we have it?"

"We'll work out the details later, big brother!" Peter said. He sat by the door, exiled by the other nations and peeked in from the outside. "I'm gonna be you, Arthur!"

As a wave of "aww"s surfed through the group, and a slight blush and smile on Arthur's face, "Big Brother" brought the reality that since he was a representation of England, dressing up as him would be against the theme.

Peter looked utterly disappointed, and his dejected puppy-pout sent another bout of "aww"s through the room.

Ivan broke the cute-fest with his announcement that he will be Peter the Great for the costume party.

"He was born the rightful Czar, but his sister Sophia took the job as Czarina until he became mature enough. Until then, he played war with his friends. But since he was Czar, they were allowed to use real guns and canons. Great kid, da?"

"Delighful," Antonio said sarcastically. "When he finally claimed the throne from Sophia, didn't she flee to a convent or something?"

"Da, the whole country was tired of her."

"_Puta_,[1]" Antonio sighed. "Anyway, I know _I_ am going as!" He got up and stood in a haughty manner. "_Soy Símon Bolivar!_[2] One of the greatest men in Spanish history!"

Alejandro rolled his eyes. "Señor Bolivar was a creole Spaniard. He was born in a Spanish colony in Venzuela," he retorted. "_Pendejo_[3]_"_ he muttered.

"_Cabron_[4]" Antonio snapped. "Well then, I'll just find a new guy to be!" he pouted.

"And he'll _actually_ be Spanish…?" Alejandro prodded.

"_Clara que si, hermano_. [5] As Spanish as paella."

The other countries listed off names of iconic figures in their cultures; Japan would be Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Heracles would be Zeus (even though Turkish Sadiq Adnan strongly protested that he didn't count because he was a mythological god). Mohammed would come as Egyptian pharaoh Tutankhamun, or Tut for short, and France as King Louis XVII. Everyone left that meeting excited about cos-playing as humans. It really was funny, considering that fangirls (and boys) always dressed up as them. Finally, the tables would be turned.

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><p>"You know," Kiku said. "People think that you're very lazy and too relaxed." He and his Grecian friend were admiring ancient Greek ruins when he made this comment.<p>

Heracles didn't seem the least bit offended, though. "It may seem so, but when there's nothing to worry about and nothing to be done, why stress yourself out?"

"True, but to the other nations, it looks like there _is_ stuff to worry about. Do you have any alliances?"

"I do, but they're pretty loose." Heracles wandered to an intricately designed vase that was chipped and worn, but whose beauty and detail was still visible. "But since there's no wars, why do I need them?"

"Okay, I understand your logic," Kiku lied. _Wasn't he aware of Alfred's war on terror? Where has he been the last ten years?_

"Besides war," the Japanese said. "what about debt? How much do you owe, anyway?"

"Well…" Heracles slurred. "You know, a little bit here and there…"

"A little bit!" Kiku hollered. "You owe Alfred a whole bunch of money, not to mention that time when I bought you lunch after you'd _forgotten_ your wallet?"

The Greek was now laying on his favorite hillside, arms folded behind his head and his white cat on his chest. "Calm down, bud. Take a seat and look at the clouds."

Kiku reluctantly relaxed and laid down besides his laid-back companion, and tried to momentarily banish any worries from his mind.

_How does he stay so… oblivious to stress?_ Kiku wondered.

Heracles's light-heartedness and his ability to stay calm was probably why the anxious Japanese was so intrigued with him.

In Heracles's mind, he replayed Kiku's words a few times; _The other nations think you're too relaxed_. Was there such a thing? It is possible to be _too_ carefree? Heracles contemplated this for a moment. In fact, he thought so hard he thought himself to sleep. He felt Kiku roll closer to him and rest his head on his half-asleep friend's shoulder, but the Grecian didn't think much of it, and smiled.

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><p><strong>1- Bitch<strong>

**2-I am Simon Bolivar!**

**3-Dumbass**

**4-Asshole**

**5-Of course!**


	4. Of Jabbawockeez and Opium Highs

**Sorry for taking so long to upload; I've been loaded with homework. Because of this, I am uplaoding _2_ chapters for you guys to read. As always, comment and (politley) critique wh****at you did and did not like (I'm fragile). As always, Happy Reading! -Igboprincess**

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><p>At the <em>First Annual New International Cultural Mixer to Help Us Be Less Racist and Stuff<em> (Alfred was in charge of naming the event), the nations were actually being less rude and more compassionate to each other.

Alfred, who wore a purple hoodie with a flatbill hat and the hood up over it, tight jeans with chains hanging from the waist and flashy basketball shoes, was teaching Arthur, Ivan, and Matthew how to do the "Jerk" and "Cat Daddy". The dance pupils were dressed as Prince William, Peter the Great (complete with automated confetti canons that followed him wherever he went) and Jim Carrey, respectively. The "Prince" fell on his "arse" and yelled things like "you bloody wanker!" and "stupid American dance" at the mock pop-star. "Peter the Great" was fluently skipping backwards in place, and then imitated the wheelchair movements. He was jerking and cat-daddying so well that "Beiber" was calling him "home skilley bizkit", and knighted the Russian as a "G" (Take that as you will).

The Canadian comedian gave up dancing and walked around cracking jokes at whoever he saw; He commented that Yao's robe looked more like a prom dress and noted out loud that Roderich's cross between Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mozart, and King Ferdinand looked like a homeless android-spy in a powdered wig.

This homeless android-spy could not take his eyes off of Elisabeta, who flaunted her skimpy she-warrior costume all over the floor. She half-danced, half-arched over to Gilbert, who put the "awesome" in King Frederich the Great" (even though technically the word wasn't there). The albino wore torn jeans, flashy, but matching, Nike sneakers, a princely coat and hat, and wielded a scepter with a little nest for Gilbird. He was careful as to make sure his avian companion did not fly out of the nest (no pun intended).

Over by the punch bowl, Antonio, Lovino, Veneciano and Ludwig posed for a picture. But Antonio and Veneciano were forcing the other two to smile, and they looked pained to be putting their mouths into such a position.

"Luddy! Say _formaggio_!" Veni probed.

"Formah-geo" Ludwig complied, and muttered in his best Italian accent

Across the floor stood the Asian nations. Most of them were dressed as different Chinese emperors, because they started under China.

Im Yong Soo and Li Ming were in the middle of the floor wearing JabbaWockeeZ masks while they popped and locked.

Matthew yelled "YO! ITS JABBAWOCKEEZ!" and a crowd accumulated around the breakdancing Asians. Alfred ran over and started a chant.

"HAYYY! HOOO! ITS YA BIRTHDAY! BREAK IT DOWN, DOG!" the crowd hollered.

Im Yong and Li stopped dancing when Antonio and Alejandro decided to do an improvised fandango/huapango. The dance was a combination of a matador scene and a step routine, what with all the side-clapping and stomping.

"You see, _amigos_," Alejandro said when they finished. "_Huapango_ is a Mexican dance form where the ground," he gestured to the floor and did a nice and loud one-two step. "is your drum"

"And a _fandango_, _compadres_, is Spanish. Its saucy and intriguing, almost like a tango for one." Antonio said this in his Sexy Latino Accent™ as he dipped. It was almost as if he was being held up by and invisible dance partner.

"Da, it's a pretty dance, but not as fun as this." Ivan pushed through the crowd and began to do the barynya*(the male's part of course). Arthur and Alfred tried to join in but fell on their butts.

Kiku started a flash mob where everyone did the BonBon, and afterwards, the JabbaWockeeZ went back to doing their thing.

About an hour later, while Ade and Chinwe showed off Nigerian and Kenyan dance techniques, Nataliya walked up to Yao with a drink.

"Hello, Yao," she said awkwardly. She gave the Chinese a drink.

"_Nihao_," he huffed, as he sniffed at the red, sugary liquid in the clear plastic cup he was now holding. He scrutinized at it for a bit, but eventually sipped it.

"How's the party? You are not dancing, especially not with brother." The Belarusian glanced at Ivan as she spoke.

"Well, no, but that just gives you room to dace with him, right?"

Nataliya almost turned around and ran to her beloved, but stopped herself. _No, I have to do this, for Ivan. He sent me to do this, and I must not let him down. _"Yes, but… I don't need him right now."

This statement made Yao uneasy, because it was common knowledge that if a yandere didn't want to be near the object of their affection, there was something fishy going on.

After a long, road-to-nowhere conversation, Nataliya wondered why Yao wasn't yes in Ivan's basement, out cold on the floor. Didn't she put enough Knock-out-oxide in the drink?

Yao sensed her disappointment, but he didn't know what it was about. So he offered to step outsid with her for some opium. Maybe the high will get something out of her.

While they sat outside in a courtyard, puffing on the highly addictive narcotic, they began to hallucinate.

Yao dreamed of the day when everyone on the planet was Asian (preferably Chinese).

Nataliya, on the other hand, thought Yao was Ivan and said "I fed him the spiked punch and it didn't work. What should I do next? Tell me brother!"

Yao had grown a slight tolerance to opium, so he was semi-conscious and heard what she said.

He got up to leave, but in her opium-induced panic beat him in the back of the head with a lead pipe that appeared out of nowhere.

Once a yandere, always a yandere, even when you're high on an illicit drug.

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><p>As the mixer was winding down, Kiku and the remaining Asian nations wondered where Yao was. They hadn't seen him since Im Yong and Li started the dance circle, and Kiku hadn't kept track of him because, after drinking a few beverages, he spent the rest of the night "hanging out" with Heracles. They couldn't get home because they were all carpooling and Yao had the keys.<p>

Eventually, after everyone else had left, Im Yong hotwired the van and Sathaya drove them home. They were all tired and just wanted to sleep, so they didn't think too much about the Chinese man not being there. They would worry about that tomorrow…

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><p><strong>*barynya<strong> – a Russian folkdance that involved a lot of squat work and unorganized show-offy dancing… but it's a whole lot of fun. Check it out: you tube .com / watch?v=m3tYllRdctk


	5. A Greek Hakuna Matata

Yao woke with a throbbing pain in his head and a stiff back. He couldn't move his hands and feet, but its not like he could feel them in the first place. He threw his head back, and opened his eyes, but was still too exhausted and passed out again.

When h came to for the second time, he squinted at the two figures across the room mumbling in a language he didn't understand. As he took in their features from the chair he was tied to, he noticed that one was female. She had long, dark hair, and wore a blue dress that poofed at the shoulders. He couldn't see her face very well in the musty, dark basement they were in, but from the melancholy voice she spoke in, he knew it was the Belarusian who had knocked him out. And Yao knew that where there was Nataliya, there was an exasperated Ivan.

When the pair noticed that Yao was conscious, they sauntered over and said, in a haunting unison, "Let's talk, Yao."

Li Ming was pacing the hallways of the apartment that the Asian personifications lived in, when Im Yong and Sathaya walked up to her and asked what was wrong.

"_Ge ge_* hasn't called. He wasn't down at breakfast, either. Our anniversary party is tonight and-"

"_Sângsaa_,*" Sathaya interjected the fretful Mongolian. His flirty behaviour and bishōnen attributes seemed to automatically calm her down. "I know your 337th—"

"316th" She corrected.

"I know your _316__th_anniversary is important to you, but I bet if you calm down, things will get better." He reassured her by placing his hand on her shoulder and flashing her a smile.

"Yea, I'm sure he'll be back. He's probably over at Ivan's or something," Im Yong said.

Little did he know how true that statement was.

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><p>Kiku and Heracles laid on their favorite grassy hill, near the Greek ruins. Since Yao wasn't there trying to boss everyone at the house, Kiku and the other Asians spent more time with other nations. Li stayed home and stressed out about Yao while the others went out.<p>

Heracles had taught Kiku to become more relaxed. Almost like "Hakuna Matata", or whatever the Greek equivalent of that would be.

"All I do when I feel like I'm thinking too much about something—" he started.

"You've been stressed before?" Kiku asked, completely surprised that he'd ever been close to worry.

"Well, yea everyone worries. But what I do is tell Zeus what my issue is, and he takes care of it. I just forget about the negatives and relax."

"But, the money. You haven't –"

"In time, _fílos*_. In time."

* * *

><p>Ivan laid the now-bloody leaden pipe in Nataliya's hands, who caressed it as it if were Ivan himself. Yao was sprawled on the floor, barely conscious, and asked "Why, Ivan? What are you trying to accomplish?"<p>

"I'm bored." He let out an evil laugh that was more like a witch's cackle. Then he got serious and said "Mother Russia would want this. If I persuade you and the rest of your house to join me, I would be farther ahead than if I had tried anything else."

"But w-we ere okay, weren't we?" Yao sputtered, as blood flowed from open gashes in his head, neck, lip and side.

Ivan grew solemn at this, then frustrated. He yelled, grabbed the pipe from Nataliya and brought it down on Yao's head.

* * *

><p>"Li's texting me," Kiku said, rolling away from Heracles. Who was now explaining to him the concept of getting angry, and not holding it in. (But that ship sailed long ago; he thought his slight frustration was cute, and they got a little off track…)<p>

"What'd she say?" he asked Kiku, who was looking down at his phone.

"She forwarded a message from Nataliya to us."

It indeed was a mass-message to the Asian nations that read;

_ How's Yao? Hahaah lol you wouldn't know, would you… _

_ Brother and I have been taking care of him. He got… injured at the mixer, so we took him home. You know, Russian hospitality ;)_

_ If you want, you can come visit him, but I wouldn't suggest it. What he's got is… contagious…_

_ XOXO, Nataliya_

"I think I should go home and talk to the rest of them. See you soon?" Kiku pecked the Grecian's check as he stood up to leave, but got pulled back on top of him.

"A few more minutes wouldn't hurt," he whispered.

They didn't notice Kiku's phone light up with another message from Li.

_ Jiātíng*, I'm going to check on Yao. I'll bring him home before dinner_.

* * *

><p>"Li!" Nataliya exclaimed when she saw the Mongolian at her door. Her exclamation was more like an unwelcoming holler because she said it through clenched teeth, startling the petite Asian woman a little bit.<p>

"Hi, Nataliya. Is Yao…?" She started to ask the whereabouts of her older brother.

The Belarusian suddenly became more hospitable ad ushered her to the dining room. "Oh, Yao? He's fine. Still sick, though. Would you like some vodka, or _tea_?" She emphasized the word "tea" because it was a codeword between her and Ivan that signaled someone else (particularly a nosy Asian) was in the house.

Since Ivan was in the basement with Yao, Nataliya sent Toris Lorinatis to relay the message.

When the Lithuanian delivered the news to Ivan, he stood up form the chair that was across from the one the beat up Chinaman was seated in.

"Tell her I'll be up soon."

"But what do I say to her?" Toris asked.

"Just say I'm giving Yao some Russian medicine or something. I don't care, just go!"

"Whatever you say, sir." He did and about face and rushed back up the stairs, again leaving Ivan and Yao to finish up business.

"Will you do it?" he asked Yao.

"No! I'd never tell my family that 'Mutterchen Russland' would ever be a good idea! But if you wanted domination, why would you start with me?" Yao looked desperate and terrified, but was angry and persistent all the while.

"_Dìdì!"_ Both men immediately tensed when they heard a high-pitched voice calling for Yao

"Shit. How'd she get past Nataliya?" Ivan growled. Then, he turned to Yao and beat him senseless. "Just to make sure you don't do anything stupid." He went up the stairs and blocked Li from the dark stairway leading to the basement. He glanced over her shoulder and saw Nataliya collapsed on the dining room table.

"I pressure pointed her in the neck and wrist when she started dodging my questions," Li said. Shed noticed the half-angry, half-relieved look on the Russian's face.

She did the same to him and then pushed his limp body aside as she descended the stairs at lightning speed.

She was only halfway down when she caught a glimpse of Yao's terribly abused, unconscious body. She gasped, ran to his beaten body and cried.

After twenty minutes of bawling over him and thinking about revenge then crying some more, she realized she wasn't strong enough to beat Ivan. She dragged Yao's body to her car and called Sathaya, Im Yong and Kiku to tell them the current situation. She then drove him home and saw the male Asian nations waiting for her in the garage. They helped carry him inside, forgetting to remove their shoes at the door because of the rush.

Li was boiling herbal healing tea to give to her brutally injured brother when he finally came to. Sathaya fanned him while Im Yong and Kiku tended to his cuts and bruises. They tried not to hammer him with questions, but they couldn't help it.

"When did she get you?"

"What did they want with you in the first place?"

"Does that hurt? Should I ease up?"

"She hit you where?"

"He said _what_ to you?"

And the list went on and on. Yao tried to answer as best he could without completely exhausting himself. He told them about him and Nataliya's "opium picnic" outside, all the beatings, and Ivan's "master plan".

"I think-" he coughed. "I thing you all should just go with him," he finally said.

"_What?"_ everyone gasped in unison.

"Honestly, hes not that bad, if you just do what he says. You guys would be safer on his side. He's bigger and has more power than some of you."

"No! We must fight back!" the boisterous Korean yelled from the sink where he was fixing up a wet bandage for Yao's head. "We can't let that stupid Ivan win!"

"Exactly! Ill do everything that is in my power to stop him. I may be a smaller nation but he can't _really_ expect us to just give up like that." Sathaya's powerful, Cambodian voice echoed through the house. "We're stronger than that!"  
>Li agreed with Im Yong and Sathaya. They turned and looked at Kiku, waiting for him to protest against their eminent conquer. The Japanese man thought about what Heracles had said; "Chill out, bud."<p>

_If I'm secure under a big country like Russia, I won't have as much to worry about, right?_ he thought.

"Kiku!" Li whined. He looked at her, then to Yao, then to Im Yong and Sathaya, and back to Li. He sighed and walked away as Yao laid his head back on the couch, groaning an audible "Ai, ya…"

* * *

><p><strong>Ge ge- Chinese for "brother (younger)"<strong>

**Sângsaa – Cambodian for "My love/lover/someone I love, etc." Term of endearment.**

**Jiātíng - Chinese for family**

**Fílos – greek for "friend/my friend"**


	6. A House Divided

The next morning's breakfast at the Asia House was awkward and divided. Im Yong, Li, and Sathaya sat in the living room while Kiku sat at the kitchen table alone.

"I know; I'll seduce Nataliya and get her to persuade Ivan to quit!" offered the Cambodian.

Li looked annoyed. "Just because you're cute and you think you're some kind of 'stud', she still wouldn't go for you. You cant get through to her creepy head just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"I think we should charge at them and hope for the best. You know, a lightly-planned, poorly-executed surprise attack." Im Yong suggested.

"That's actually not a bad idea," Li said. "But the best martial artists around here are Yao and-" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Kiku. But I don't think he's on our side anymore."

"How could he just betray us like that?" said an enraged Sathaya.

At this, Kiku dropped his plate in the sink and walked out the door, in search of Heracles, his safe house, his refuge.

When he found him in his mother's ruins, he was digging around for some more antiquities. He watched him for a while as e excavated a clay discus and a javelin with bloodstains still on it (apparently the thrower needed to work on his aim). He dug heartily, wiping the sweat accumulating on his brow and laying his Atlas cross on the ground next to him.

After Kiku politely interrupted him, he asked if they could talk for a minute. They walked over to their favorite bust of Zeus and Kiku began the story. He hoped he would give him some good advice, because he really needed it right then.

Ivan slammed his fists on the kitchen counter.

"How?" he screamed. "How could we just let her puck him up and leave?"

Nataliya just stared past him, looking either dazed from the pressure point or in deep thought about something.

"They're going to retaliate," she muttered

"What?" Ivan asked.

"They're going to come back at us. I don't know when, or how, or even who they'll team up with, but what you've done will have a consequence."

Ivan stared at her with a frown on his face full of contempt and confusion. "Well what do we do?"

Nataliya shifted her gaze from over his shoulder to look him eye. She blinked once, twice, shrugged and walked away.

_What is she talking about?_ Ivan thought. _With Yao out of the picture, what are those fools going to do?_

"But you said-"

I said 'Why worry, why get involved, if there's nothing to worry about?'. But, Kiku, there _is_ something to worry about, Yao, the _leader of your household, _is an trouble and you're taking the side of his torturer? Not only that, but you're leaving Li, Sathaya and Im Yong to fight Ivan all by themselves." Heracles became driven and spoke about defending family with a strong, powerful voice. "Isnt that in some samurai code or something? 'Never leave family behind". It should be."

"Well, I know, but I'm so passive; I don't want to get involved. Its not my business when its between Yao and Ivan." Kiku explained.

"Look. If you won't do it, then who will?" Heracles looked Kiku in the eye and sighed. "Im willing to help, but I don't know how much I can do."

"_Arigatou,_ but… I just need to go." Kiku stood up and walked to the bottom of their hill. He turned to look at Heracles, but couldn't bear to make eye contact.

Sathaya had suggested that they become stronger in order to beat Ivan. So for days they trained to strengthen themselves. They fought harder, thought quicker, and moved faster than they ever had before. Li was the best at kicking, and, being a girl, was more flexible. She could probably lodge her foot in someone's right nostril. To get extra practice, Yao made her kick almost everything; boards, doors, random projectiles, and even a shoe salesman (he was being snappy and got on Yao's nerves).

Sathaya was good at getting close to people, so Yao trained him in close-combat fighting. Surprise punches in the nose, quick taps behind the ear and in the crook of the neck that put you to sleep, and throws across the room became frequent events in the house. His reflexes became almost inhuman, and he made sure that a simple-minded westerner wouldn't be able to keep up with him.

Im Yong got better at using weapons; no one in the household got near him unless they were sure there was nothing he could use against them. Formal weapons, like kendo sticks, swords and even a bayonet, were objects he wielded with an unsettling and threatening grace. Make shift weapons such as window panes, lamps, bats and pipes he handled with an abusive care; abusive on the receiving end, that is.

After weeks of intensive training of both body and mind, and avoiding ivan and Nataliya, Li voiced the thoughts of everyone in the house.

"I think we're ready."


	7. Never Again

Nataliya and Ivan stood at the far side of a room the size of a stadium, staring heartlessly at the enemy. Li, Sathaya and Im Yong stared right back, equally unfeeling towards them.

Ivan whispered something into his sister's ear, causing her to nod and then charge at the Asians.

At the same time, Sathaya came running towards her, with Li close behind. Nataliya managed to land a blow to Li's stomach, but Sathaya grabbed her wrist and flung her into Ivan.

Ivan pushed her off of him and sent his large pipe into Sathaya's ribcage. The sound of splitting bones put a sick smile on his face, and Ivan continued to wave his weapon, making contact with Im Yong's jaw and nose. Li loked over at hr brothers, one doubles over in pain and the other cursing and holding his bloody face. She made a giant leap and launched her foot through the air. Her heel and Ivan's nose felt wet, the blood and sweat mixing between them. When she touched the ground again, she ducked and barely missed getting her head knocked off by Ivan's lead pipe.

From her spot near the ground, she stuck out her leg and tripped the Russian, causing his pipe to roll out of his hand. Im Yong grabbed it and ran to use it on the Belarusian who was kicking and laughing at Sathaya. He swung lower than he'd intended; he hit her in the arch of her back instead of her neck, but immediately she fell on top of the Cambodian and screamed in pain.

Sathaya yelled as he kicked her in the stomach, tensing his abdomen as he raised his leg and knocked the wing out of her. She rolled onto the floor, unconscious of the Grecian that was now standing over her.

Heracles took a quick scope of the "battlefield"; the arena was like a giant living room, complete with random furniture, and Ivan, Sathaya, Im Yong and Li duking it out in the center of the floor.

He snuk up behind Ivan, who'd just slammed a fist into Sathaya's head, making him down for the count. His head and chest were gushing blood, and he coughed up deep red phlegm. Heracles elbowed the maniacal Ivan in the neck, which stunned him for a minute. This allowed Im Yong and Li to charge at him with all they had. Im Yong nailed him with the pipe, but at the same time got hit in the knee by Ivan. He could feel his bone bending at such and awkward angle and tumbled into a dresser, dropping the lead pipe again. The dresser fell on top of him with a resounding "thud" that caused Li to gasp in horror and Ivan to cackle in satisfaction.

Ivan slowly oicked himself up and stood at eye level with Heracles.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he taunted.

"I don't know, but Im glad hes not here to see your ugly face."

"That the best you could come up with?" Ivan chuckled and raised the pipe he'd grabbed from Im Yong.

As the weapon was coming down on him, Heracles dodged and kneed Ivan in the groin.  
>The Russian doubled over in agony. "Nope. <em>That<em> was," Heracles said smugly. He rushed over to Li and tried to take care of her wounds. She could barely talk, but was gesturing and pointing to where she was most injured.

After Heracles had done all he could, he told Li he'd go check on the others. She nodded in agreement, but suddenly her eyes grew wide and pointed over his shoulder. Before he'd even had time to turn around, a staggering Ivan brought his prized weapon down upon Heracles's head, and immediately blooded started to flow, staining and clumping his soft, brown hair. Li screamed and scrambled to get behind a nearby couch so she could gather her thoughts. She was panicking. Everyone around her was fighting. They were hurting each other. Is this how it was going to be from now on?

"Li," Ivan called in his creepiest, sing-song voice. "Come out, come out where ever you are."

She peeked over the side of the piece of furniture and saw what she'd least expected.

It was Kiku. He came back.

He followed Ivan around the room for a while then tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and a look of utter disbelief and astonishment took over his face. Then he grinned evilly and said, "Nice of you to finally show up, da?"

Li couldn't hold it in anymore. She jumped up from behind the couch and ran towards Kiku, arms ready for emreace. _Finally, we'll be together again,_ she thought. _Nothing between us. We'll be a happy family_._ No more issues. Nothing…_

Nothing except Ivan and his lead pipe.

Kiku stared in horror at his bloody, beaten and unconscious sister sprawled onn the floor. He immediately retaliated, which caught Ivan off guard, and socked him in the eye.

He kept punching and kicking and screaming and cursing, pushing Ivan against the far wall of the arena-sized room. He elbowed him in the jaw when he saw Im Yong's feet peeking out from under a dresser. He flung him across the room at the sight of Sathaya's bloody body slouched against a wall. The lead pipe rolled out of Ivan's fist and stopped when it touched Heracles's foot. Kiku bent down and kissed his bruised face as he picked up the weapon. Then he carried it to the trembling Ivan that laid on the floor.

He stood over the Russian, his trademark lead pipe in Kiku's own hands. He raised it over his head, ready to do some harm. Images of his injured family and friends – Yao, Li, Heracles, Im Yong, Sathaya—flashed through his mind. He swore he would never let something like this happen again.

"Never. Again." He whispered. The sound of metal and flesh colliding resounded through the area.

Now, there was nothing to worry about. It was all over now.

**END**


	8. Epilogue Very short

(Well, obviously Asia won, and Ivan sits alone with Nataliya, as always)

After everyone had recovered from the fight, Li and Yao finally celebrated their anniversary.

"I love you, _ge ge_," Li said to Yao

"I love you too, _mèi_*" he replied.

They spent the day eating Yao's moon cakes and Li's mutton and buuz. After the meal, they watched old Chinese classic movies.

At Ivan's house, he locked himself in his room, desperately trying to aboud the crazed Belarusian clawing at his locked door. (What else is new?)

And at every world meeting after the fight, he never spoke of Mutterchen Russland again.


End file.
